Page 100 of One More Christmas at the Castle
He picked up the ladder and carried it off through the arch to the old wing and I turned with a smile to wish Xan happy Christmas, too … and found him standing very close and looking down at me with a light dancing in his lilac-grey eyes.
‘My turn,’ he said and, pulling me close, kissed me.
It was not at all like Henry’s brotherly salute, but full on the lips … and seemed to last a very long time … though actually I wasn’t counting.
It was only when he finally let me go that I realized I had my eyes shut and opened them, bemusedly.
‘It’s gone midnight, but you’ve turned into a witch, instead of a pumpkin,’ he said lightly. ‘You’d better go and get some sleep; I know how early you have to get up tomorrow. I’ll just let Plum out of the front door for a moment and then turn off all the lights in here.’
I was still staring at him, feeling rather dazed, but pulled myself together. ‘I am tired, so I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight, Xan.’
‘Goodnight, Dido,’ he said softly, but he was already turning away and snapping his fingers to summon Plum.
After a night of confused dreams, I woke up next morning feeling it would be wrong to read too much into Xan’s kiss last night –orlet Henry, romantic soul that he was, persuade me that Xan had any warmer feeling for me than friendship, even though that had been averyfriendly kiss.
But clearly I was right, because when Xan came into the kitchen early next morning to give Plum his breakfast, his manner was just as casually friendly as usual.
He didn’t linger, though, because Henry and I were both busy with the grill, hotplates and frying pan by then.
Henry took the hot dishes through to the morning room a few minutes later and when he returned, said that Lucy was already down.
‘And she looked at me as if I’d killed her pet rabbit and said, “Oh,Henry!” I couldn’t really think of a reply to that, so I said I’d fetch her some tea.’
‘I’ve just made it, if you want to take the pot through, and I’ll be along with the coffee in a minute,’ I told him and when I did, found everyone was now down and the hot topic of conversation was the overnight appearance of the swags and garlands.
Lucy, who had come down by way of the Garden Hall stairs and so entirely missed seeing them, actually got up and went to look.
They were a definite hit with Mrs Powys. Henry got most of the praise, as was only right, since it was his magical flair that had created it all.
‘You’re so clever!’ Lucy said, staring at him rather dolefully, then she got up and began loading her plate as if she’d had a ten-minute starvation warning.
I left Henry in the morning room watching the somewhat explosive toaster and went to fetch the reserve dish of bacon, which I was sure Henry had hoped wouldn’t be needed. The conversation had moved on in my absence and Xan was just telling everyone about the old home movie he’d found among his grandfather’s films.
‘Not one of his – it must have got mixed up with them at some point and never given back. But there’s old footage of parties at your villa, Sabine, and a picnic on a beach. I thought you might enjoy watching it, so I’ve brought it with me, as well as the old projector and screen.’
Henry was so interested he forgot the toast, but I just caught it as it shot out, slightly singed, and gave him a severe look.
‘Oh, yes, that would be fun,’ Nancy said. ‘Wouldn’t it, Sabine?’
‘It might be amusing,’ she agreed. ‘I expect the film was taken by that poet, Georgio someone-or-other. He was always appearing under one’s nose with his little cine camera.’
‘How about we watch it right after dinner this afternoon? I can set the screen up in the drawing room,’ said Xan, and then added, to my surprise, ‘and I’m sure Henry and Dido would enjoy watching it, too.’
‘I don’t see why they should be interested,’ said Mrs Powys, turning to look at us, as if wondering why we were still there.
I hastily put down the metal lid I’d just lifted from one of the dishes on the hotplate and started for the door, but Henry said in his most cajoling voice: ‘But we’dloveto see it, Mrs Powys! We’ve watched all the clips of you and your husband diving that are on the internet, of course, but I adore home movies – they’re so spontaneous – and I expect you had a very interesting circle of friends on Corfu!’
I thought this was rather over-egging the pudding, but Mrs Powys said indulgently, ‘Interesting was certainly the word forsomeof them! Still, if you really think you’d like to watch it, Henry, I suppose there isn’t any reason why not.’
‘Oh, super! We’ll just slip in, quiet as mice and sit at the back.’
I don’t know how he gets away with it, but this little mouse took herself off to the kitchen, where she belonged.
‘I can’t imagine how you manage to get round Mrs Powys,’ I said, when he followed me.
‘She likes me,’ he said simply. ‘And I don’t suppose my having a pedigree that stretches back before the Norman Conquest does me any harm, either.’
‘Snob value,’ I told him.
